


Effigy Of A Man

by unbroken_halo



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: M/M, Secret Snarry Swap
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-01-01
Updated: 2013-01-01
Packaged: 2017-11-23 07:27:52
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,476
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/619593
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/unbroken_halo/pseuds/unbroken_halo
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>While cleaning out Grimmauld Place, Harry finds and starts chatting with what he thinks is Severus's portrait.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Effigy Of A Man

**Author's Note:**

  * For [thrumugnyr](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=thrumugnyr).



> Written Dec 2012 for Snape_potter's Secret Snarry Swap and Thrumugnyr. Thanks to Accioslash, Badgerlady and Angela_snape for their input and beta assistance.

Harry studied the tarnished metallic silver casing, trying to make out the subject of the small portrait. Dust and grime covered the surface of the glass in the frame and seemed to obscure the actual image encased in the metal. Carefully, he cleaned the intricate scroll work, gingerly moving the cloth over each swirl before brushing the filth from the glass. He was hesitant to run a cleaning spell over anything he found in Grimmauld Place, as a few things had struck back at him in revenge for the scrubbing.

Turning over the picture, he looked for a way to remove the photograph to clean the frame better but there were no clips, screws or nails holding everything together. It appeared to be one solid piece, and he shook it to see if the glass was loose enough to slide out of a slot he had missed. He stopped immediately when he heard a voice.

"Stop it! Do you mind? It is rather disorientating when you do that. Cease and desist moving me about so much."

Harry held still. He thought he recognized the voice, yet there was something different about it. Slowly, he turned the portrait over and gasped. Glaring back at him was Severus Snape. He gaped at the picture, opening and closing his mouth as he tried to form a response.

"Potter! I should have known. Only you would terrorize a defenceless object."

Harry snapped his mouth shut. All thoughts and warnings about magical or dark objects still residing in the house fled. For two years he'd been coming to terms with the aftermath of the war: the deaths of his friends, his feelings about Snape, what the man had done to and for him versus his own sense of fairness; and now he could tell Snape. The words just tumbled from his lips.

"When did you have a portrait painted?"

Apparently this wasn't the question Snape was expecting because he blinked, and then almost instantly the sneer reformed on his face. "Why do you want to know, Potter?"

Harry just stared at Snape which prompted an even bigger tirade.

"Well, answer me, boy! What in Merlin's name do you think you are doing? Why are you speaking to me? How do you know I am not some evil... dark object? Did you learn nothing during the war, Potter? Was your mother's sacrifice in vain?!"

"Shut it, you bastard! You don't know what I have learned. I found you in my house!"

"Your house? Ah, poor, pitiful Potter. Hiding out in Grimmauld Place just like Black."

"Fuck you, Snape."

"Crass, Potter, but I expected no less from you."

Harry nearly chucked the frame across the room. Taking a deep breath, he blew it out slowly, closing his eyes as he tried to calm himself. Opening his eyes, he stared Snape down. "I am not going to let you bait me."

"Somehow, I highly doubt that."

Harry snorted. "I knew you would."

Snape's glare intensified, then he sniffed and stormed out of the frame. Harry collapsed in on himself and held the portrait to his chest. He'd stood up to the greasy git even though he'd learned nothing. He'd prepare himself better and contact Snape again tomorrow.

The next morning Harry sat in the kitchen, holding the empty frame. He took a deep breath and called for Snape.

Snape appeared instantly and glared at him. "What do you want?"

"Just to speak with you." Harry paused. "Civilly. I think we owe each other that much, all things considered. And if you won't do it for me, then at least do it for my mum."

"I did my duty to Lily, Potter. There is nothing more I owe her. Do not use her memory for something so trivial."

"So, you'll speak with me?"

"I'll consider it. But I refuse to answer any questions about what you saw."

Harry nodded. That hadn't even occurred to him to ask. "Deal."

Snape looked weary but nodded. "Speak, Potter, it's not as if I have all day to lounge about and entertain you."

Harry looked surprised but graced Snape with a smile. Snape arched a brow at him and Harry ploughed forward. "Thank you for helping me."

Snape snarled. "I told you I didn't want to discuss the past!"

"We aren't, you berk! I was just saying thank you."

"I don't need your thanks!"

"Fine then, you surly git! I'm sorry I thought you might actually appreciate someone acknowledging what you did."

"Do you think I need you to validate my actions, Potter?"

"I don't know! I just wanted to tell you that I know I was a prat but I realized I couldn't have done it without you."

"Well, it's about time you grew some humility, Potter. What did that cost you to utter those words? To learn that truth?"

Harry swallowed. "Everything, but I wouldn't change a single moment, since I am still alive to thank you for it."

The scorn dropped off of Snape's face. "We all have regrets, Potter."

"Still?"

"Always."

Harry looked almost sad for a moment, and then sighed. "Your canvas never appeared in the Headmaster's office, so I assumed that one had never been procured. Professor Dumbledore said you should have shown up by now."

Snape studied him. "I've no need to hang about in the Headmaster's office at Hogwarts. My tenure there was a joke of the cruellest order; I have no need to relive it with those sods inhabiting the office."

Harry snorted. "I would think you'd relish the chance to inform the newest headmaster on his wrongdoings."

Snape sniffed. "As enticing as that sounds, Headmaster Black corners the market on making certain the office retains its integrity."

Harry chuckled. "Funny you should say that. Phineas Black is one of your biggest supporters in trying to get the Governors to commission a painting of you."

Snape looked horrified and Harry laughed even harder. "Oh, Merlin, the look on your face!"

Snape crossed his arms over his chest. "I do not find this funny. I insist that you tell him to stop."

Harry sobered immediately. "But I can't. You are a hero now, Snape. I've petitioned the Wizengamot, too, on your behalf."

Snape's glare intensified. "What in Merlin's name possessed you to do so?"

"First off, you deserve it." Harry climbed to his feet, bringing the portrait with him. "Secondly, every headmaster in the history of the school has had their likeness added to Hogwarts. Hermione found a clause that negates McGonagall's claim that you abandoned the post." He shrugged as he settled in on the sofa, placing the frame on the table and propping it against a few other bits and bobs he'd already cleaned, so he could talk with Snape properly.

Once again, Snape appeared speechless. "I didn't abandon the post. I was driven from the grounds."

"That's exactly what I said!"

Snape still looked incredulous, so Harry elaborated. "Look, there's been this... debate since the Battle of Hogwarts..."

Snape rolled his eyes, but gestured for Harry to continue.

"Anyway, I've had Hermione helping me look for a way to... I don't know. Return the favour, I suppose."

"What have you done, Potter?"

Harry held up his hands. "Calm down, it's a good thing. Apparently, _Hogwarts: A History_ , is self-updating and had listed the last two times the headmaster had been displaced. Once during my Second Year, which was Lucius Malfoy's doing in his capacity as a Governor, and then Umbridge had Dumbledore thrown out during Fifth Year. Technically, he returned on the rest of the Governors' orders the first time, but the second time he was never displaced because he had not been dismissed by the Governors. Only they can do that, not the Ministry."

Snape arched a brow. "You want to put my portrait in the Headmaster's office because of a technicality?"

Harry shook his head. "No. The thing is the book doesn't list you as displaced, Snape. _I_ want you there because you deserve it, no matter what the circumstances. McGonagall thinks that you shouldn't be honoured because of what occurred that year."

"She is correct."

Harry narrowed his eyes. "I happen to think you did your best with what you had to work with at the time."

Snape scoffed. "I allowed the Dark Lord to place me in a position of power without control. Let Death Eaters run rampant in a school and overlooked the torture of children on a daily basis. That is not worth honouring, Potter."

"And if you had declined Voldemort's orders?"

Snape flinched and Harry sighed. "Look, all you have to do is make an appearance before the Wizengamot..."

"No!" Snape's shout startled Harry and he gawped at Snape.

"Why not?" Harry demanded. "I can take this portrait to them."

"Because I don't want to, Potter."

"So, you want to continue to suffer for the cause no matter what?"

Snape sighed. "I am no martyr, Potter. I helped murder my... I was a direct cause of many people's death. There is no honour in what I did. Severus Snape is gone and he needs to remain that way." He turned and vanished from the frame.

"Wait! Come back!"

Harry leaned forward, waiting for Snape's return, but the only thing that was visible in the painting now was a foggy blank wall.

* * *

It was almost a month later before Harry saw Snape again, though he'd called to him several times. Finally, he'd placed the frame on his bedside table, so it wouldn't get lost in the shuffle of the redecorating of Grimmauld Place. He and many of his friends had traipsed in and out of the old house, trying to rid the place of its gloominess and make it liveable. 

A few of the security measures set in place during the war were dismantled, though the house remained Unplottable and under Fidelius. The portrait that held Walburga Black's image, the elf heads and the serpent décor were all removed as well. In their place, Harry had family photos of his mum and dad, Sirius and Remus, Teddy and Andromeda and various Weasleys. New furniture was placed in all the rooms, appliances added to the kitchen and the gas lamps replaced on each floor. All the fireplaces had been serviced and reconnected to the Floo Network, activated only with the proper passwords. 

Flowers in boxes adorned the windows and filled the once stagnant air with the clean scents of spring and renewal. The curtains swirled in the night breeze from the open window in his bedroom on the first floor.

Padding into the room in nothing but a towel around his waist, Harry whistled an out-of-key tune and dried his hair with another towel. He tossed one towel over the chair by his bed and opened the armoire, leaning in to search out his pyjamas. 

"You could at least put some clothes on, Potter."

Harry let out an unmanly shriek and banged his head on the bar above the drawers. He spun around, sleep shorts and pants clutched to his chest as his wand flew to him from his nightstand. "Who's there?" He waved the business end of the wand around the room.

"Not expecting company, Potter?"

Harry squinted and moved to the bed, sitting down heavily and patting the table for his glasses. Slipping them onto his face, he glared down at the photo. "Snape... I wondered when you were going to get over your snit and return."

Snape rolled his eyes. "As this is my frame, I return when I see fit."

"Un huh," Harry hummed and slid his pants on under the towel and dropped it to the floor as he pulled his briefs up over his hips.

"Potter! Merlin, have you no shame?"

Harry grinned as he drew on the cotton sleep shorts. "Oh, no. I have none, I promise." He scooped up the towels and headed out of the room and returned to find Snape still covering his face with both hands.

"I'm decent."

Snape peeked and shook his head. "You were never decent, Potter."

Harry chuckled and slid beneath the sheets on his bed. "So, I'll ask again. Over your tantrum, are you?

Snape drew himself up to his full height. "I did not have a paroxysm. You were being unreasonable."

Harry's eyebrows climbed to his hairline. "Really? I seem to recall being the rational one about what had occurred. It never even dawned on me that you would be angry to be recognized for your efforts. You certainly wanted credit for Sirius's capture."

Snape scoffed. "Black deserved every thing that was coming to him that night."

"Perhaps at the time he did, but that wasn't for you to decide. However, he was cleared of his wrongdoings and I still think that you should be as well."

Snape narrowed his eyes at Harry. "Do I look as if I need a champion for my cause, Potter?"

Harry shrugged. "Maybe, but again, I think you deserve it." He settled down in the bed, turning to his side to face Snape. "Anyway, I'm glad you are back. We, Hermione and I that is, managed to get the ruling overturned and a portrait will be commissioned. I would like to take you to the artist Hermione searched out."

"No."

Harry sighed. "Fine, I'll give him a memory to work with."

"I said no. Are you daft now as well as a stubborn, impertinent brat?"

"Of course!" Harry smiled at Snape and Snape pressed a hand to the bridge of his nose.

"There is no need for the portrait, Potter. It will not animate."

"Why not?"

Snape paused then answered. "Because I don't want it to, you horrid little cretin! I refuse to allow the magic to work if you persist in this course."

Harry's eyes widened, uncertain that Snape could actually do that but he wouldn't put it past him. "Okay, okay. I won't go see the artist." He toyed with the blankets for a moment. "But Hermione's going to want to know why I have suddenly backed off from my crusade."

Snape groaned. "You just have to complicate matters, don't you?"

Harry chuckled. "I excel at it, sir, if you recall."

"Yes, unfortunately, I remember all too well your contrariness, Potter."

"Look, you are in my bedroom, could you stop calling me Potter?" 

Snape stared at him and Harry licked his lips, feeling his cheeks heat from the implication of his statement. "Err..."

"Indeed."

There were several minutes of silence and Harry squirmed in the bed before finally deciding to speak again. "Just consider it, all right? Please? Also, my name is Harry and I honestly don't mind you hanging about. I'll think of something to tell Hermione."

"We shall see." 

Smiling, Harry waved his wand and dimmed the gas lights. "Goodnight, Snape."

A dark chuckle floated through the room as Harry turned over and settled on his stomach to sleep. "Good night... Harry."

* * *

"I know what I look like, Potter, and having a portrait painted is not something I desire!"

Harry sighed. He'd been trying to convince Snape for a month that the portrait was a good idea. It wasn't going well. As long as they didn't speak of the past or his portrait, Harry got on just fine with Snape. Oh, they'd had some... intense negotiations, as Snape put it, but for the most part, their interactions were civil. For the two of them.

However, Hermione had been pestering him more and more often since the decision had been made to allow Snape his place as onetime Headmaster. She wanted him to see the artist engaged to create the painting that had been chosen.

"Look, you cleaned up well enough for this photograph so I don't see how it makes much difference to let me take you to the artist. He can, at least, have an idea on how to proceed."

Snape froze in the frame and Harry wondered if he had said something wrong.

"I don't want you to take this item anywhere, Potter. I do not want a portrait painted. No memorial erected to commemorate my life. Do I make myself clear?"

Picking up Snape, Harry carried him from the mantel to the low table in front of the sofa. Since his return, Snape had graced Harry with his appearance each night and Harry had taken to carting the frame around the house with him as they talked.

"You deserve it," was all Harry said.

"I assure you I don't. No one in their right mind would like my visage looming over them." Snape smirked at Harry. "Except maybe you, but we both know you are as daffy as can be."

"Hey, now! I'm as sane as Luna."

"I rest my case."

Exasperated with the entire situation, Harry leaned back on the sofa and propped his feet up on the table. Snape sneered at his trainers. "Fine. I need to do something to get Hermione off my back about the damned thing, then. So, start thinking up an alternative."

Snape's eyes widened. "Me? Why should I encourage this farce?"

"Because if you don't give me a suitable alternative to the portrait, then I will have to give up a memory to Hermione before she drags it out by force. Like a crup with a bone, she is. Once she has her mind set about something, she goes after it with strong-minded determination. She's on her way to being the most outspoken advocate in years and people are listening to her. She's going to get her way one way or another."

Snape narrowed his eyes at Harry. "I did not do this. You are responsible for this atrocity so I suggest you stir your lamentable measure of brains for a solution that will satisfy the steadfast Ms Granger. I have already informed you that I will not be party to this ridiculous situation."

Harry moaned. "You know, I think you are more threatening now than you were when you were alive."

Snape looked pained for a moment, then snorted. "I try, Harry."

Harry chuckled. "You certainly do."

Snape sighed.

"Oh, and it's Mrs Weasley now. Hermione, I mean. Actually, that's kinda confusing, I suppose, with Molly and all."

Snape rolled his eyes. "Merlin save us from the next generation of know-it-all gingers."

Harry howled with laughter.

* * *

Snape watched as Harry twirled his broom around the room, wires stuck in his ears and trailed down into his denims, his voice loud and slightly flat as he sang. He dipped the broom and waggled his eyebrows at it before straightening and continuing his waltz.

Snape arched a brow as Harry shook his arse, twirling around and around to whatever rhythm was playing in his head, and ended the dance. With a flourish, he bowed then puckered his mouth and blew a kiss at the broom.

Snape laughed out loud and Harry dropped the broom, turning to grin at the portrait. Reaching up, Harry pulled the headphones from his ears.

"Well, I am glad I could entertain you."

Snape snorted. "I pity your partner. I take it you have found a satisfactory resolution to your little problem."

"Oh, yes. There's to be a plaque placed in the Headmaster's office for you."

Snape arched a brow. "I distinctly said no memorials, Potter."

"Harry."

"Harry!" Snape snarled.

"Look, it took me two months to get her to agree to the plaque. After all the fighting I did, she was dead set on that portrait, and I had to pay off the artist for his time."

"At least he earned something from dealing with Gryffindor idiocy."

"Well, what do I get for putting up with a Slytherin git?"

Snape shook his head. "Pathetic."

"I'm getting better. You have to admit that."

"I will do nothing of the sort, except to concede that you are ever entertaining." Snape pinned Harry with a look and Harry squirmed. "Now tell me about this plaque and how it is infinitely better than the portrait idea?"

"I... ah... convinced Hermione that, as long as the space and possibility remained open, eventually your portrait would appear. Professor Dumbledore agreed that when you were ready you'd come around, which incidentally gets us both out of hot water."

"That is interesting." Snape hummed. "And this occasion calls for dancing?"

Harry scooped up his broom, not looking at Snape. "Well, I had to agree to a ceremony, too. There's going to be a ball. Any excuse for getting together and having a party, you know. The Ministry is still celebrating the victory."

Snape rolled his eyes. "The girl manipulated you well, Potter."

"Maybe, but she's no longer chewing on my backside." Harry snickered. "Hermione has demanded that I, at least, have to take one turn around the dance floor with her. Ron tends to mangle her toes. Andromeda taught me to dance for Ron's wedding, since I had to dance with Hermione's maid of honour."

"And Miss Weasley? No slot for her on your dance card?"

Harry grimaced and placed his broom in the cupboard. Sinking down to his bed, he sighed. "I don't think Neville would appreciate me dancing with his wife."

"Longbottom married the youngest Weasley?"

Harry nodded. "Almost two years ago, if I remember my dates. They are expecting twins sometime around Christmas."

Snape looked horrified and Harry laughed. "I think it was like this thing after the war. Besides Ron and Ginny, George and Percy both married. Bill's wife, Fleur, just had a baby." He leaned back on his palms and thought for a moment. "Luna is engaged. Dean, Seamus and even Malfoy wed, too. Malfoy's wife is expecting, also, I think."

"Thank Merlin I left Hogwarts when I did. As prolific as the Weasleys are, I avoided the invasion."

Harry shook his head and chuckled again. "That's mean. Funny, but mean."

Snape shrugged. "And you, Potter? Any plans to find a bride?" He grimaced as if this was an uncomfortable subject. "Do I need to request a new place of honour in your house?"

Harry fidgeted with the spread on the bed. "You called me Harry before."

"So I did. Now, answer the question since you find it necessary to update me on the all too exciting news of the progeny of my students."

Colour infused Harry's face as he picked at the blanket and refused to look at Snape. "Um, no. I've no plans to... err... wed."

"No urgent need to repopulate the Wizarding world with little Potters carrying on sentimental names?"

Harry glared at Snape. "There's no call to be rude."

"I never claimed to be nice, Harry."

The glare downgraded to a scowl. "Whatever. I need to get ready."

"Do turn me around before dis..." Snape gasped. "Potter!"

Harry cackled, dropping his shirt to the floor before leaving to the bathroom. He returned a few moments later, clad in a short dressing gown, his hair damp and plastered to his head.

"You are a bloody exhibitionist." 

Harry snorted as he stood in front of the full mirror on the armoire. "You're a prude. And yet you are still around waiting for me? Why is that?" He turned looking over his shoulder at Snape. "See something you like."

Snape glared at him.

Harry grinned. "Want to?" He slid the robe open, allowing it to slide down his arm, and turned toward Snape.

Snape drew in a breath and gave Harry a slow going over, arching a brow as he allowed his gaze to return to Harry's face. He licked his lips and Harry swallowed hard under the scrutiny. "I suppose you'd do in a pinch. Broad shoulders, compact torso and nicely muscled arms ending in neat blocky hands. A trim waist, impressive thighs tapering into elegantly shaped calves." He smirked and continued. "Absurdly cute crooked toes."

Harry's face flooded with heat. "Fucking prat," he muttered and adjusted his robe into proper alignment. He jerked open the wardrobe and began rummaging through the robes. 

"I try."

Harry shook his head and withdrew a formal set of robes, laying them down on the bed. 

"Am I going to get a show?"

Harry stalked over to the frame and laid it flat on the table.

"Thank Merlin for small favours!"

"Fuck you, Snape, and the broom you rode in on."

* * *

Harry tumbled out of the Floo and landed on the floor with a thud and a moan. Snape watched him crawl across the floor, then climb up on the bed and begin to undress. Harry wadded up his cloak in a ball and tossed it out into the room.

"Had a bloody good time on your behalf, Snape," he slurred and raised up long enough to shed his outer robes. "Shoulda been there. But you are too bloody stubborn to join me in anything."

"Mr Potter!"

Harry jumped like a student caught out of bed on the Astronomy tower. "Wha' now?"

"Kindly retire to the loo, if you can, to disrobe."

"Pardon me for offending your delicate sensibilities, Snape, but no one said you had to stay around and watch." Harry snarled and began to strip out of his shirt, wobbling as he shot to his feet from the bed.

He balanced on one foot while he tugged one boot off, then crashed to the floor and let out a loud belch. He tugged at the other boot's laces, tangling them into a worse knot. "Bloody, fucking hell! Who tied these bastards?"

Snape wrinkled his nose. "For Merlin's sake! Just how inebriated are you, Potter? Can you not even make it to the loo?"

"It's my goddamned bedroom and I'll fucking do what I want in it, you bastard!" Harry tossed his shoe at the portrait and Snape fought the urge to duck. It missed, thankfully, and bounced it off the wall and onto the bed. 

"Nasty drunkard, aren't you?"

"No, you just bring out the best in me." Harry slithered over to the bed, then clawed his way up the blankets and kicked out of his trousers. He shimmied off his pants and threw them away next before sprawling out naked on the bed.

"Well, Lily's boy is all grown up, isn't he?" 

Reaching down, Harry grabbed his cock and began to stroke, and laughed. The sound was bitter to Snape's ears and he wondered about it.

"Too right! Like it, do ya?"

"You pervert. So blind drunk you don't even realize what you are doing."

"Snape, shut the fuck up or leave. I don't give a damn if you watch or not. I fucking need this," he moaned and gripped his cock with his other hand, sliding them both up and down his hardening shaft.

Snape could only stare at Harry, watching as he toyed with himself and made obscene noises.

"If you're gonna watch, at least talk to me," Harry breathed, and reached down to run a hand over his bollocks. He spread his legs and canted up into his fist. "Let me know someone is there," he whispered.

That was all the permission Snape needed. "Look at you," Snape's voice was low and hoarse, and he couldn't believe he was doing this. "I knew you were a sodding exhibitionist. I bet you're getting off on the sound of my voice."

"Oh, Gods! I need lube if you're gonna speak like that. Ack- _Accio lube!_ "

Awed that Harry's magic even worked, as intoxicated as he was, Snape nearly flinched as a tube flew into the room, headed straight for him. Harry's hand snapped out and caught the tube just before it impacted with him. He watched as Harry squeezed out the substance over his prick and took hold of himself again. 

"Merlin," Snape panted, and licked his lips.

"Yeah, tha's better." Harry growled out. "Keep going."

"Wanton, little bugger. Just begging for it. Gagging for me to talk you off." Snape began again, unable to stop himself.

Harry writhed on the bed, teasing and touching himself, letting filthy sounds go to show Snape how much he was enjoying himself.

"Is that what you needed, Harry, just my voice" Snape purred. "Maybe a thick cock up your arse? Or down your throat? Someone to share you, spit roast you and fuck you until you are a sodden mess?"

Harry whinged and reached between his legs, running one hand over his sac and stroking along his arse. "Fuck, yes..."

"And if I wanted you all to myself? Wanted nothing more than to bury my dick in you and fuck you through the mattress?" Snape's voice was pitched even lower as he spoke faster. 

"Yes..." Harry tugged on his cock quicker, slipped a finger inside his anus. "Please!"

"Come for me, Harry. Come right, now!"

Harry froze at those words, his body tightened and he came, spilling over his hand just like Snape had told him. He sagged on the bed, his limbs akimbo as he panted, semen cooling on his stomach. He closed his eyes, the sound of his breaths easing into a slow and steady rhythm. 

"That was utterly beautiful, Harry," Snape murmured. "Rest well." 

Harry barely heard the soft whisper of Snape's voice as he passed out.

* * *

Chilled, Harry startled awake and fell off the bed. He sprang back up and clutched his head, moaning as he adjusted his glasses on his face. He looked around at the destroyed bedroom and wondered what exactly he'd done when he'd left the Ministry's ceremony for Snape.

_Snape!_

The portrait was empty. He took a step and tripped over a boot, then sprawled out on the floor. "Ow," he groaned. He rolled over and caught a glimpse of himself in the armoire mirror and yelped then grabbed his head again as the room spun. Panting, he closed his eyes and slowly counted to ten.

Opening his eyes, he looked in the mirror. Naked and dishevelled, his image stared back at himself. Red patches where he'd scraped his face, knees and elbows on the carpet throbbed in time with his heartbeat, and itchy patches of silvery splotches decorated his stomach and thighs. _What the hell had he done last night?_

Ministry celebration, dancing with Hermione, laughing and drinking with Ron and Charlie were all clear in his head. Being shoved into the Floo by Kingsley less so, and arriving home was near a fuzzy aftermath. He'd been hot and his heavy dress robes had needed to come off... 

Suddenly the memory of the night before returned and Harry moaned. Covering his face, he rubbed his cheeks and his eyes with his palms. "Oh, Gods. What have I done?"

He waited for Snape's sarcastic voice to berate him but nothing happened until he heard the Floo flare downstairs, the sound echoing up through the house's fireplaces and scrambled to his feet, searching out his dressing gown.

"Harry?"

A woman's voice floated up to his followed by the shriek of a toddler. He moaned and crawled to the loo. Teddy and Andromeda. He remembered they were supposed to come by today sometime after noon. _What bloody time was it?_

"Harry?" 

Andromeda called out again and Harry Summoned his wand, nearly putting his eye out as he almost fumbled it. A quick Cleansing spell and he barked out a noise as the scrubbing scoured his skin. "In here, Andromeda!"

Harry just barely made it back to his room when Andromeda stopped on the first landing. He waved at her, several items of clothing in his hands. Pointing, Teddy urged her forward into Harry's room. She eyed the ruins of the room, one eyebrow arched as she looked him over, and Teddy's hair turned a putrid green. "Harry dirty."

Andromeda laughed. "Yes, it seems you had a bit much last night at the ceremony. Teddy and I shall wait for you in the kitchen if you want to clean up properly..." She paused and narrowed her eyes, stepping further into the room.

"Harry... is that a Black mirror?" She gripped Snape's portrait and Harry nearly yelled at her to put him down.

" _A_ Black mirror?"

Andromeda smiled and nodded. "Yes, brilliant bit of charm work; I never did manage to unlock all its secrets. Bellatrix found them in the attic one summer and we all used them while at Hogwarts, then I gave mine to Sirius. I never knew what became of Cissy's and Bellatrix's. One set most likely went to Regulus."

Setting Teddy down on the floor and digging through the bag she had slung over her shoulder, she distracted him with a few toys. Moving closer to Harry, she turned the mirror over and around then ran a finger over the swirls on the front. "This scroll work is actually the chevrons and stars from the family crest. Surrounding the glass are the swords and finally, embedded along the outer edge of the frame is the family motto: _Toujours pur_."

The French rolled off her tongue, beautiful and lyrical, and Harry could see it: the crest hidden in the framework. Felt the inscription and designs in the scroll with his fingertips and he felt sick to his stomach. So many things Snape had said made much more sense now. 

"Not only was our blood supposedly pure but any image that was produced in the mirror would also come across true as well."

"It only works with the living," he whispered. 

"Well, yes, one would think so, seeing as it's rather unusual for someone to return as a ghost. Besides, the magic only works if you really want to see the other person who has the second mirror."

"I thought it was a photo frame." Harry groaned and closed his eyes.

"Are you certain you are feeling well?" Andromeda inquired and then settled the mirror back on the table. Reaching up, she laid her hand across Harry's brow. "You look a bit peaked."

Harry looked right at her. "Actually, no, I'm not. I'm sorry, Andromeda, but could we try this some other time."

She smiled at him and Harry was startled once again how much the woman looked like Bellatrix, regardless of the sane smile that enhanced her entire face. "Let me just tuck you in and Teddy and I will be off."

Harry started to protest but she had that look on her face as she led him over to the bed. He allowed her to treat him as one would a child, and then grinned as Teddy gave him sloppy kisses. Harry held Teddy close and breathed in the innocence about him.

When Teddy struggled to be free, Harry finally let him go and Andromeda had a potion vial held out to him. "Drink this and rest. I'll make certain Kreacher comes to check on you later today."

Harry nodded and sighed as he swallowed back the potion and closed his eyes. Andromeda finger tips grazed over his brow. The potion must have worked quickly, because Harry never even heard his bedroom door close.

* * *

"Harry?"

Harry ignored the voice that withdrew him from sleep.

"I know you are awake, but I will allow you the privacy."

Harry cringed, because what he said he had never intended to ever voice. "Why? What was the point in befriending me?"

Snape sighed. "Then you believe Andromeda's assessment of the situation."

"She has never lied to me."

"I have not."

At that Harry turned over and glared at Snape. "No, your shtick is misdirection. I should have known. I KNOW better than to trust magical objects."

Snape nodded but said nothing.

"I want my mirror back."

"I beg your pardon?"

"Bring me my property back. It is the least you can do." Harry turned over, giving his back to Snape.

Lying about got Harry nowhere, but he made certain Snape was gone from the mirror before sliding from the bed. He showered, staying under the water for far longer than necessary, thinking about the past six months.

With a groan, Harry turned off the water and climbed out; he gave himself a rough once-over with the towel and lay down once more. Out of habit, he turned and looked to the mirror.

Snape's blank wall was gone and Harry wondered about the swirl of mist that took its place. It seemed to be moving fast as though the mirror were relaying someone travelling through the clouds. His heart jumped because an owl must be carrying the mirror back to him.

Quickly, he jumped up from the bed and dressed. He froze in mid-action of pulling on his denims.

"There are few times when someone can make good on a wrong. To have the courage to admit when they were mistaken." Snape's voice flowed out of the mirror and Harry watched as the scene changed. He heard the sounds of motors and more people. Concrete paths with the occasional refuse bin or potted tree as the picture showed a familiar street. "I was."

It was said softly but Harry jerked up the frame to listen as Snape started again.

"It is said, 'Every man's work, whether it be literature or music or pictures or architecture or anything else, is always a portrait of himself.' For six months I have seen an amazing portrayal of a man that has grown from his experiences."

Harry just breathed, listening to Snape as he spoke, and watching the scenery change as he walked. 

"To continue the quote, Butler has this to say: 'The more he tries to conceal himself the more clearly his character will appear in spite of him. _Toujours pur_ , Andromeda said, if you recall."

Harry gasped as the wrought iron fences lining Grimmauld Place showed up in the mirror. The repainted door to the house filled the frame and Harry turned as the doorbell clanged throughout the house.

"Let me in, Harry... if you want your mirror. I have no wand to get past the door."

Harry raced down the stairs and jerked open the door. Snape stood on the landing and watched him with a wary look on his face.

Reaching out, Harry grabbed Snape by the lapels and Snape allowed him to pull him into the house. The door slammed shut behind them and Harry held Snape close to his chest, staring in his eyes.

Snape's eyes closed and he bent his head, pressing their mouths together. 

Harry groaned and wrapped his arms around Snape, nipping and biting at his mouth. Snape's sharp teeth gave back the same treatment; his tongue slipped out and soothed over the hurts on Harry's tender lips.

Breaking away, Harry rested his head on Snape's chest and reached down to take the mirror away from him.

"Are you going to hide from me again after this?"

Snape's chest rose and fell against Harry's face for several minutes before the answer rumbled out.

"Only every chance I get."

Harry closed his eyes and smiled. "Pick a room."

~The End~


End file.
